


Touring Benefits

by emma_and_orlando



Series: Joger Week [6]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Early Days Queen, Fluff, John is a good listener, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Roger is angry, Snuggling, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 07:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21095411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_and_orlando/pseuds/emma_and_orlando
Summary: Rogers always has a lot to say. John listens.





	Touring Benefits

**Author's Note:**

> Probably the simplest one I’ve written, but its soft and I like soft so hihi!! Hope you like it

"And I told him! I told him it would happen. Did I not tell him?"

John nods mutely. 

Roger storms past him with his duffel bag slung over his aching shoulder. Eyes seething with rage. 

"The stage is what? Three meters long? If we all go running around and tangling cords like rapid dogs on leashes, someone is bound to stumble and fall."

And falling did happen. 

Brian had been walking backwards with his guitar, attached to the left side of the stage, pulling his cord up sharp and high. 

Freddie- also, strutting the stage backwards. Stumbled over the elevated cord.

Brian was abrupt pulled forward and fell headfirst into Rogers neatly tuned drum set.

"Fucking hell. How are we going to afford a new base drum, if we make reputations like this across the country." Roger dumps his bag onto the floor and kicks it. Face flaming red with anger and unreleased adrenaline. "Nobody will book us anymore." 

The words, don't be dramatic, nearly spill from Johns slightly parted lips. 

But he has only joined the band two months ago. During fights like these, he likes to stay out of it, before he oversteps and risks getting thrown out. 

"This was the worst gig in history! They all laughed at us!" Roger growls. Johns fingertips tingle at the deep rumble. "For fucks sake. The unprofessionalism will be the death of us." 

Despite all the dramatics, John really likes _Queen._

He likes Freddie's affectionate hugs and unsolicited terms of endearment. John thrives off of Brians criticisms on his music and his open praise on Johns suggestions. 

But most of all, he likes Roger.

Not only because they're both in the rhythm section of the band and tie in perfectly, but also because Roger is always obviously trying to include John in their tight knitted group. 

And maybe, also, perhaps, because Roger is a little bit (incredibly) gorgeous.

Even now he is. In the smelly room of their Bed & Breakfast, the cheapest in town, his shirt thrown onto his duffel bag. He is standing over the sink, washing off the sweat from his face and armpits.

John sits down on the bed and begins unlaces his platform heels. Pretending not to peek at Rogers bare chest. 

"He refuses to listen to me. I tell him to stay on his side of the stage, but apparently my thoughts and input mean shit to him." 

Roger throws the washcloth into the sink with a huff. 

John knows this isn't necessarily about tonights gig, but because of an argument between the two friends that had been going for a longer while. Wherein most of Rogers songwriting suggestions are getting dismissed to make room for more of Brian and Freddie's songs. 

He had expressed that he's losing his voice In the band. But the complaint fell on deaf ears. 

Roger shoulders hunch in defeat. He too, toes off his converse and leaves them at the door.

John watches him fall face-first into the double bed with a tired groan, causing the mattress to jiggle and nearly throw John onto his back with the force. 

"But he paid for it." 

"Hm?" 

It's the first thing John has said since their gig. He licks his dry lips and pulls his shoes all the way off to avoid Rogers hooded eyes. 

"I mean... Brian in the end paid for not listening to you."

"But now _I_ have to pay for the base drum he kicked his gigantic foot through." Roger moans miserably. 

When John turns around to strip into his pajamas, he can see the blond wiggling his ass to take off his tight leather pants without having to get up again.

He bites his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing at the ridiculous sight.

From his backpack he grabs his pajamas, but forgoes his toothbrush and deodorant. Feeling a bit disgusting, but his limbs ache too much for him to fuss over hygiene now.

He has been out of University for three weeks, but it feels like the true student experience has only begun with Queen. 

Roger had almost managed to get the pants down to his calves, but not further.

John takes mercy on him. 

He stands by the foot of the bed and tugs on the tight leather, until it drags past Rogers ankles onto the floor.

"You're the best." Rogers gratitude is muffled by the ratty pillow. "It's a miracle you haven't left our miserable asses yet."

John smiles. Heart fluttering.

There's no chance he is leaving Queen, not when he gets to share a bed with a nearly naked Roger, who as soon as John crawls under the duvet, rolls over to settle his chin onto Johns clothed chest.

One leg is drapes over Johns thighs, and his hair tickles Johns nose whenever he shifts or swallows. Though, the youngest has no plans to complain about the closeness any time soon. 

John watches the tired drummer through his own hazy eyes. 

They both suffer from dark circles under their eyes, and dry lips, messy hair, pink cheeks from the gig. 

Rogers chin digs into the softness of his chest, but John doesn't have the heart to push him away. 

"I would never just leave the band." He promises in a soft voice.

A smile tugs on the corner of Rogers lips. 

"You say that now." Before he shuffles down and lays his ear on Johns loudly beating heart. Rogers eyes close gently, soft eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. 

John wriggles his toes at the newfound closeness. He needs an outlet for his giddiness.

They have shared hotel rooms before. In Glasgow and Leeds, two of Johns favorite evenings ever, as they stayed up watching Star Wars and playing chess on the wobbly bed. Playing again and again until they lost count of their amount of wins and loses.

But this is the first time they have a double bed, and the perfect excuse to cuddle up. 

Johns fingers tremble when they tangle into the strands of Rogers long tresses. He flashes him a dorky smile, that he can't even see.

"Don't worry," He says, stroking Rogers fringe away from his forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

"We'll see if you still think the same when Brian destroys your precious instrument."

John knows it's a bitter jab, but Roger obviously relaxes against Johns chest. His arm is draped over John as well, to splay over his muscular shoulder and squeeze himself close. The bicep flexes under his fingers.

"We'll find a way to avenge your base drum."

"Do you promise?" Roger asks, innocent like a child as he nuzzles into Johns warm, sweaty neck.

"Yeah..." John smiles. "I promise"

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!!!


End file.
